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Hear now the austere words of Marc Rich, the merchant who moved in the perilous world of trade: “You can’t run a business based on sympathies; otherwise our business would be hampered.” These words may sound cold to tender ears, yet they reveal a truth that rulers, merchants, and workers alike have long discovered—that the realm of commerce is not sustained by sentiment alone, but by discipline, calculation, and clear judgment. For though the heart may long to yield, the marketplace demands firmness, lest chaos and ruin overtake the venture.

The meaning of this saying lies in the eternal struggle between compassion and necessity. To build a business is to engage with risk, to balance fortunes upon decisions that affect many lives. Sympathies, if allowed to guide every choice, may lead to indulgence, to debts forgiven without reason, to contracts ignored, to weakness that enemies will exploit. Yet without discipline, even the most compassionate enterprise cannot endure, and when the enterprise falls, it carries with it not only the owner, but also the workers, the families, the communities that depend upon it. Thus, Rich reminds us that in the world of trade, one must temper kindness with the iron of order.

Consider the example of Cornelius Vanderbilt, the titan of American railroads. He was not remembered as a man of gentleness, for he was ruthless in competition, often unmoved by appeals to sentiment. Yet it was precisely this relentless discipline that allowed him to build an empire of steel and steam, employing thousands and reshaping a continent’s commerce. Had he ruled his ventures by sympathy alone, he might have been praised as kind in the short term, yet his enterprise would likely have crumbled, leaving those same workers destitute. His sternness, however harsh, created stability upon which others could build.

And yet, history also shows the danger of neglecting sympathy altogether. When the factories of the Industrial Revolution rose in Britain, owners often cast aside all compassion, working men, women, and children to exhaustion. They “ran business without sympathies,” and though they profited in gold, they impoverished the spirit of their nation. In time, strikes, uprisings, and reforms proved that untempered discipline breeds unrest. Thus, the wisdom is not that sympathy must be banished, but that it cannot be the sole compass. A just balance must be found, lest enterprise become either too soft to survive or too harsh to endure.

The lesson for us, then, is this: in our work, in our dealings, even in the small enterprises of daily life, we must learn to temper the heart with the mind. To lead with sympathy alone is to risk ruin; to lead with coldness alone is to destroy trust. True strength lies in knowing when to extend mercy and when to hold firm, when to forgive a debt and when to collect it, when to bend for the sake of relationship and when to stand immovable for the sake of principle.

Practical action follows: if you are entrusted with a task—whether in business, in leadership, or in family—do not decide only by what stirs your emotion. Step back, weigh the cost, consider the larger picture. Ask: Will my sympathy here uplift all, or will it endanger many? Will my firmness safeguard the future, or will it harden hearts beyond repair? In answering, you will find the middle path, the place where compassion and discipline join hands.

So let Marc Rich’s words not be heard as a dismissal of mercy, but as a call to wisdom. Business cannot be ruled by sympathies alone, for the weight of survival demands order. But neither can humanity flourish without compassion. To those who walk the path of enterprise, let this be your guide: act with discipline, act with clarity, but do not forget the human faces behind the numbers. For when strength and sympathy move together, both business and humanity may prosper.